For just a moment, Rose was unbearably tempted. Then the spectre of Jancis Kendall began to rise up in her mind again. She was the ghost of the past; and, no matter how much Nathan denied that he wanted Jancis back, Rose couldn't seem to convince herself that she was a ghost. What if there were three people in that bed tonight? Herself, Nathan, and a husky-voiced singer he couldn't forget?
Another shiver shook Rose. Part of her knew that she was being irrational, but she just couldn't seem to stop. Something had happened to her last night, and she wasn't quite the same person today. And this new person wasn't willing to share Nathan—would rather give him up altogether than have only a part of him, while the rest belonged to a blonde-haired woman with no soul.
Nathan was watching her intently, although she knew he couldn't see her face any more clearly than she could see his.
'I wish I knew what was going through your head right now,' he said slowly, at last.
'I was just thinking that I was very tired, and would like to get some sleep,'
she said rather jerkily, the lies seeming to stick to her tongue. He shook his head. 'No, that wasn't what you were thinking,' he said with total conviction. 'I know you, Rose. I know when you're lying.'
'You do not know me,' she said with a sudden flash of anger. 'I'm not even sure that you want to know me.'
Incredulity spread across his face. 'How can you say that, after last night?'
'We slept together, that's all. That's got nothing to do with knowing someone!'
Nathan shook his head slowly. 'If you really believe that, then you've got a great deal more still to learn. OK, sex can be impersonal. I know that better than anyone! But what happened between us last night was not impersonal. It was very good and very intimate, and we discovered things about each other that we probably couldn't have found out any other way. I certainly don't regret what happened.'
'Well, I do!'
The words came out before she could stop them, and she would have traded ten years of her life for the chance to take them back again. Too late now, though. And too late to deny that she had meant it. Nathan's eyes were already alight with a great flood of anger.
'Then here's something else for you to regret!' he said in a tight voice. He made no attempt to be gentle this time. His mouth inflicted bruising kisses, and his hands moved over her as if he no longer cared who she was: Rose Caldwell, whom he had shared his home—and his bed—with; who had begun to get closer to him than any other person since the break-up of his relationship with Jancis Kendall.
Rose quickly discovered that she hated it when he touched her like this. It aroused her body—with his experience, he could hardly fail to do that!—but not her heart. His fingers roughly caressed the aching tips of her breasts, and she felt a pleasure that wasn't really a pleasure at all. Just a vivid sensation that registered on her nerve-ends, but nowhere else.
His mouth moved lower, as if he was determined to subject every inch of her to this savagely sensual attack. He pulled away her clothes with sudden impatience, and his tongue lashed her hot skin, provoking deep shudders from within her. Yet, at the same time, she shrank back from him. She felt as if she didn't know the man who was doing these things to her. Nathan wouldn't let go of her, though. His hands moved lower, down to the silky smoothness of her thighs. Rose caught her breath as his hard caresses became more purposeful, the intimacy of his touch all the more shocking because there was no trace of tenderness in it.
Her body began to ache, but it was a perverse kind of desire. She didn't like it; she wanted to draw back from it, but Nathan just pressed harder, his fingers expertly stroking. At the same time, his mouth returned to hers for a kiss that quite literally took her breath away.
When he finally released her mouth, he seemed as breathless as she was. His hands were still on her, though, as relentless as ever. Briefly, he raised his head. 'A part of you is hating this, isn't it?' he challenged her thickly.
'Yes,' she somehow managed to get out.
'You want me, but it's an empty sort of wanting. All sensation, but no feeling.'
If he knew that, why was he doing this to her? she wondered with a surge of bitterness.
He moved still closer, fitting his body against hers so that she became starkly aware that he was hard and aching.
'I could take you to bed right now, and we'd both find some sort of pleasure,'
Nathan told her, his voice tight. 'It wouldn't last, and it wouldn't be particularly special, but it's what a lot of people settle for. Is that what you want?'
'Of course I don't!' Her voice was unsteady, but quite adamant.
'Nor do I,' he said grimly, to her surprise. 'Because this is impersonal sex, Rose. And this is what it would have been like, if I had simply wanted you last night.' Without any warning, he released her. Relief and disappointment shot through her in equal measures. 'I wanted you to know the difference,' he went on, in a more even tone. 'I thought perhaps you were too inexperienced to realise just how special last night was.'
'I knew it was special,' she said in a rather choked voice. 'But I wasn't certain if you knew.'
Nathan looked at her with some amazement. 'Of course I knew. For a start, you're the first woman I've slept with—wanted to sleep with—for over a year. I was beginning to think I was going to remain celibate for the rest of my life! All the desire just seemed to have been knocked out of me. The fact that you could get me going—and push me right over the edge so quickly—makes you someone pretty unique.'
But, somehow, being unique wasn't quite enough. Rose was beginning to realise what it was she really wanted. She wanted to be loved—and, although Nathan obviously had fairly strong feelings towards her, that might be asking just a little too much.
'So, where do we go from here?' she asked in a low voice, suddenly feeling very tired and drained.
'You're going to bed, and I'm going back to my own room,' Nathan said decisively. 'And no,' he added, 'it isn't what I want. You know perfectly well what I want! But there are decisions that are going to have to be made, and sleeping together tonight is only going to confuse things still further. I want you to think about what I've said to you, Rose. We'll talk again, when you're ready, and then perhaps we can finally begin to get things right.'
He turned away from her, and she took an involuntary step forward. 'You're really going back to your own room?' She hadn't meant to say any such thing, and she swallowed hard as he slowly swung back to face her.
'You can make me stay, if you want to,' he told her in a voice that was very husky. 'You won't find it in the least difficult.'
But Rose was already realising that he was right. They needed some time apart, to think things over. 'No,' she mumbled. 'No, you'd better go.'
For a moment, he didn't move. She thought he was going to ignore everything that he had said to her, and simply sweep her off to the bedroom. Then, with an obvious effort, he began to back away again. 'Goodnight, Rose,' he said, in a rather strained tone. 'I'll see you in the morning.'
Even after he had gone, it was some time before she moved. Her muscles seemed to creak with tension as she walked slowly to her room, and she had the feeling that it was going to be a very long night.
When she eventually went to bed, she slept only fitfully, and had odd dreams which left her feeling hot and disturbed. She was relieved when the sun finally slid up into the sky, and she could get up.
She showered and dressed, but as she slowly made her way downstairs she knew that she hadn't managed to reach any firm decisions. There were so many things that she still didn't know, so many things of which she was so horribly uncertain.
She skipped breakfast. Food seemed unimportant at the moment. Instead, she made her way to the great hall, where she found Nathan standing at the window, as if waiting for her.
Despite its size, it was a room she had always felt very comfortable in before. The great fireplace, the warm tones of the panelling, the oak beams overhead, gave it a solid and even homely atmosphere.
This morning, though, she could sense the tension that shimmered in the air. Despite the soft sunshine that filtered through the windows and laid patterned shadows on the stone-flagged floor, her skin felt chilled. Suddenly, she wanted to turn round and run. She wasn't ready yet to talk this over with Nathan. They were all too new, these feelings she had about him. She needed time to get used to them—to get used to her new relationship with him—before making decisions of any kind.
But she didn't run. Instead, she walked steadily into the great hall, only pausing when she was a few feet away from Nathan.
He turned to face her, and he looked as if he had had as little sleep as she had. He was smiling, though, and looked unexpectedly relaxed. 'You look as if you're going to your execution!' he teased her lightly. 'I want to talk to you about a couple of things, that's all.'
Rose managed a rather feeble smile back at him, but he seemed to realise at once that it was forced. 'Come and sit down,' he invited, seating himself in one of the high-backed chairs by the window.
She was glad to take the weight off her slightly shaky legs. She subsided into the chair, and found herself trying not to look directly at him.
'Did you sleep well?' he asked.
'Not very,' she admitted.
Nathan gave a rueful grimace. 'Nor did I. Although that's not very surprising, after what happened between us last night!' He sat back in a relaxed position, and studied her face. After a while, Rose felt a flush of colour rising into her cheeks. Those slate-grey eyes seemed to see far too much!
'If we're going to talk, we need a place to begin,' he said at last. 'Where do you think would be a good starting point, Rose?'
'I don't know,' she mumbled.
'All right, then, I'll suggest a subject which seems fairly relevant, and which we both seem to have been trying to avoid, in one way or another. Jancis Kendall.'
Those last two words seemed to cause an actual twinge of pain along Rose's nerve-ends.
'Anything to say about that particular lady?' he invited softly. She lifted her head and her violet eyes briefly flared. 'You're the one who introduced the subject! You talk about her.'
'I was under the impression that I already had— and at some length. Anyway, I think that I'm over most of my problems concerning Jancis. You're not, though, and I'd like to know why.'
'Because I know about her,' burst out Rose. 'And I know the way you felt about her. If you'd never told me—and I wish you hadn't--' she added with some fervour '—there wouldn't be any problem. But I do know. And now, it always seems to be there, at the back of my mind. I can't forget about her—about the two of you together.'
'It was over a long time ago,' Nathan said levelly.
'Just because it's over, that doesn't mean that it's ended,' Rose said a little shrilly.
His eyes narrowed. 'Are you saying that I lied to you? That I still see her? Still want her?'
'1 know you don't see her. But that doesn't mean you don't still—want her.' It cost her an awful effort to get out those last two words.
Nathan was frowning now. 'I thought you were a level-headed girl, Rose. Why can't you leave this alone?'
'I don't know. I don't want to keep going over and over it,' she said a little despairingly.
'Then let go of it. Stop dredging up the past. Start to think about the future.'
'I've tried to do that. I can't stop thinking about Jancis Kendall, though. She was such a big part of your life. I feel as if she's always going to be there. And I really don't think I could live with that.'
Nathan got up and prowled across the hall. 'I don't know what the hell to say to you,' he said at last.
'I know I'm behaving stupidly,' Rose said miserably. 'And I know I'm ruining everything. I've never been like this before, and 1 don't like it, but I can't help it. I feel all the time as if she was the one you really wanted and I'm only second best.'
'Even if I tell you that you're not?'
'It doesn't seem to matter what you say. Jancis is still there, spoiling everything. I can't get her out of my head.'
Nathan growled something under his breath. Then he stared out of the window for what seemed like a very long time.
When he swung back to face her, his face had altered and his tone was more decisive. 'I'm going out,' he told her. 'There's a chance 1 won't be back until quite late. Will you be all right here, on your own?'
Rose wanted to ask him where he was going, but stopped herself at the last moment. 'Yes, I'll be all right,' she said instead, in a subdued voice. She would always be all right at Lyncombe Manor. It wasn't the house that was the problem—it was the man who lived in it.
Nathan strode over to the doorway. Then he came to a halt again and turned back to her. 'You won't run off while I'm away?'
It was more of an order than a question. Rose didn't see how leaving here would solve a single thing, though. She could run a hundred—a thousand—
miles, and still not forget Nathan Hayward.
'I'll be here when you get back,' she said quietly. Nathan gave a small nod of satisfaction and then left.
The house seemed very empty after his car had pulled away. For a while, Rose considered breaking her promise and leaving now, while she had the chance. It would be the best time to go. No scenes, no hassle—anyone with any sense would pack their bags, and make a dignified exit. She even made a half-hearted effort to go up to her room and pack. It was too much effort, though. She didn't seem to have the energy. In the end, she wandered out into the garden, stretched out on a shady patch of grass under one of the trees, and closed her eyes.
She dozed on and off, and in between times she simply gazed up at the clear blue sky. It was still warm, but not the blazingly hot and sticky heat there had been before the storm.
The storm and its aftermath—that was something she didn't really want to think about right now, so she shut her eyes again and tried to go back to sleep. And, after a while, she succeeded.
Late in the afternoon, she had a light meal, which she somehow managed to eat. She wondered what time Nathan would be back. He hadn't said where he was going, or why.
Perhaps he had just wanted to get away from her for a while. He had probably been looking for a short, uncomplicated relationship, and here she was, causing him all these problems. After his stormy relationship with Jancis Kendall, the last thing he needed was a lot more emotional turmoil. Rose shook her head impatiently. Here she was, back to that old subject again. Why couldn't she stop thinking about Jancis? It was over, over, over. But the ghosts of old lovers never truly go away, whispered a small voice inside her head.
Rose clapped her hands over her ears. She didn't want to hear that! But it was hard to shut out a voice that was coming from her own mind. Dusk began to close in, and Nathan still hadn't returned. She began to wonder if he was coming back at all. Maybe once he had got away from Lyncombe
Manor, he had realised that his life would be a lot simpler and easier without her.
Just after full darkness had set in, though, she heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. Nervously, she made her way to the entrance hall, reaching it just as Nathan opened the front door and walked in. They stood there for some time, simply looking at each other.
'I wasn't sure you'd still be here,' Nathan said at last.
'What would you have done if I'd run away?' she asked in a low voice.
'I'd have come looking for you.'
There was another long silence. Then Nathan came slowly towards her. He stopped when he was just a couple of feet away. His slate-grey eyes fixed on hers, and the expression in them made her suddenly highly nervous. Without quite knowing how, Rose knew that he was going to tell her something that she didn't want to hear.
'I haven't come back alone,' he said, a few moments later. Her nerve-ends jumped, and her heart, began to beat a little faster. 'Who--'
Her voice came out as a dry croak, and she tried again. 'Who have you brought with you?'
'I think you already kno
w.'
Rose was horribly afraid that she did, but part of her refused to believe that he would do anything quite so crazy.
'I don't know,' she said stubbornly.
Nathan kept looking at her with that same steady gaze. 'I've brought Jancis,'
he said levelly. 'It seemed the only way to sort out the problems that we've run into.'
'I don't want to see her!' Rose shot back at once, with some vehemence.
'I'm not giving you a choice. She's outside in the car, and in just a moment I'm going to bring her in.' Rose began to back away, as if getting ready to dash off, but he swiftly caught hold of her arm. 'You're not going anywhere,'
Nathan told her. 'You're staying right here while I fetch Jancis, and then you're going to meet her.'
His eyes briefly blazed down at her, rooting her to the spot. Then he let go of her, and went back out to the car.
Rose couldn't quite believe this was happening, but her shaking legs told her that this wasn't a dream— or a nightmare.
She really was about to come face to face with Jancis Kendall.
CHAPTER EIGHT
NATHAN came back through the door less than a minute later. And this time he was accompanied by someone who seemed strangely familiar, even though Rose had never met her before.
A girl—no, not a girl, a woman of stunning physical perfection. Jancis Kendall in the flesh was even more startling than in her photographs. Rose recognised the fall of pale blonde hair, the flawless skin, and the pale blue eyes. In return, Jancis Kendall was studying Rose with equal curiosity. And something like surprise was registering on that exquisite face.
'I thought you lived here alone,' she said, turning to Nathan.
'I never said that,' replied Nathan, in an expressionless voice. Rose's eyebrows drew lightly together. He hadn't told Jancis about her? But why not?
Nathan moved over to stand beside her. 'Jancis has apparently been trying to get in touch with me for some time,' he said, his tone still giving absolutely nothing away. 'She wants me to write some material for her. I told her that I've been working on some new songs, and she said she'd like to hear them. Since she had a couple of free days, this seemed like a good time for her to come down and listen to them.'
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